


Flip Right-Side Up

by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Coming Out, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Making Out, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Tumblr Prompt, Wyatt Logan's Bisexuality Crisis, emotionally constipated idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:35:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23088673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/pseuds/letmetellyouaboutmyfeels
Summary: Wyatt Logan and Garcia Flynn are assigned as roommates freshman year of college. Chaos ensues.
Relationships: Garcia Flynn/Wyatt Logan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	Flip Right-Side Up

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted here: https://letmetellyouaboutmyfeels.tumblr.com/post/190020219703/flogan-enemies-to-lovers-college-roommates-au-tho

Not everyone got along well with their college roommate, it was true. That was why, hopefully, you only had to put up with them for a year, or even just one semester depending on how much you bribed the student housing office. But few roommates had clashed so instantly and spectacularly as Wyatt Logan and Garcia Flynn.

Wyatt was from a relatively small town in Texas, and was only in college to follow his girlfriend, Jess, who wanted to be an investigative reporter. He was white, cocky, and thought James Bond was the height of cinema. Flynn was an international student from the newly-formed Croatia, had already fought in a war, and possessed the opinion that if men learned to shut up every once in a while, the world would probably benefit.

The fact that both he and Wyatt had been forced to grow up too early, too soon, had both had complicated relationships with fathers who were now dead, and both were World War II nerds (Flynn because of his father, Wyatt because of Ian Fleming) didn’t seem to matter to them. The entire dorm knew when Wyatt and Flynn were at hammer and tongs, because Wyatt and Flynn both lacked volume control.

“Would it fucking kill you to clean up your shit!? When was the last time you did laundry!?”

“It’s all on my side of the room, dipshit, so I don’t see why you’re complaining.”

“If you blast your fucking country music while I’m trying to study, I will ram this book on the history of the Bolshevik Wars down your throat.”

“That’s pretty fucking rich coming from the guy who practices his debate points out loud at two in the goddamn morning…”

On, and on, and on. The freshman RA had been asked several times to try and intervene, but Flynn was 6′4″ and looked like he murdered people in his spare time as a stress-reliever before exams, so it was rather hard to talk to him about anything. Wyatt, meanwhile, would just go bright red and mutter that it wasn’t _his_ fault, _he_ didn’t start this, so really, it was a lost cause to try and intervene.

Then Jess broke up with Wyatt over Thanksgiving break, and things got _really_ bad.

“Are you ever going to get out of bed?” Flynn mused. “Or are you going to lie there until you slowly die?”

“Like you’d care,” Wyatt huffed back. So what if he’d been in bed for the last three days?

Jess was all he had. The only good thing about his hometown, and his only friend here at college. He’d come here for _her_ , and she’d had the audacity to break up with him!?

“I’ll care when your corpse starts to stink,” Flynn noted.

Wyatt didn’t even bother to flip him off. Flynn was a pain in his fucking ass but at least, he supposed, Flynn paid attention to him. Texas A&M was big, and it was easy to get lost in the crowd. He wasn’t sure his professors would even notice if he didn’t show up for class.

He did end up staying in bed for three days. Not that it was a big deal. The post-Thanksgiving classes were a joke, anyway. Everyone was too busy cramming for exams before winter break.

…winter break, where he now had nowhere to go. He’d been planning to go home to Jess’s house with her, but… yeah. He’d probably just stay on campus. Great.

On the third day, he was woken up by Flynn dumping a box on his chest. “What the fuck!?”

“Eat,” Flynn growled, and then he walked back out of the room.

Wyatt examined the box. It was a takeout box from the campus dining hall, and the food did smell good…

Ugh, fine, okay. He’d eat it.

Flynn returned about five hours later, dumped another box on his lap, took away the first one, and then did homework silently. Wyatt glared at Flynn’s back, but if Flynn noticed, he didn’t say anything.

This process was repeated the next day, only with the addition of a bottle of water.

Wyatt watched, suspicious, as Flynn worked on his essay. “Are you fattening me up for slaughter?”

“Nonsense, you know I stick to a strict diet of children,” Flynn replied.

Wyatt told himself the sarcasm wasn’t funny.

Sometime that night, Wyatt woke up to find Flynn still working at his desk. That wasn’t unusual, but Wyatt could’ve sworn the book that Flynn was using as a reference was a biology book, and Flynn wasn’t taking biology. Wyatt was, as one of his mandatory science credits.

He rolled over and went back to sleep.

On the fifth day of this, Wyatt woke up because Flynn was dragging him out of bed by the ankles. “What the fuck!?”

“You stink,” Flynn replied, letting go of Wyatt’s ankles only to grab him by the wrist and haul him to his feet. “You’re taking a shower.”

“I am doing jack shit—hey!” Wyatt yelped as Flynn proceeded to hook his arms under Wyatt’s and then bodily haul him down the hallway, then throw him into the bathroom. Shampoo, conditioner, and soap were tossed in after him.

Wyatt noted that these were not his shampoo, conditioner, and soap. He actually didn’t know where those were. He took a shower, since he suspected marching back into his room to yell at Flynn would only result in Flynn hauling him back into the shower, and the guy was really fucking strong, so. Path of least resistance and all that.

He smelled like Flynn when he got out of the shower, which he told himself was not a good thing, even though it did something weird to his stomach. The odd behavior didn’t stop there, either—when he got back, he saw that his bed had been stripped down and his side of the room had been cleaned up.

“Where’s my stuff?” he asked, squinting at Flynn, who was reading a book on the golden age of piracy and looking far too pleased with himself.

“Put away, where it’s supposed to be. Your bedsheets are in the laundry.”

Wyatt’s face heated up. “I didn’t ask for your help, you know.”

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.” Flynn’s accent got a little thicker when he was pissed, and Wyatt would die before admitting he liked it. Flynn snapped his book shut. “Whether you asked for it or not, genius, you needed it.”

“Oh, I needed it. Right. Like a guy can’t take a few days off.”

“You weren’t eating, you weren’t showering, you were lying in bed.” Flynn’s voice had a dangerous edge to it, one that Wyatt had never heard before. “That’s not taking a few days off, Wyatt, that’s depression.”

“I’m not _depressed_.”

“If it honks like a duck and walks like a duck and…”

“Is that some kind of Croatian saying?”

“Oh, fuck you.” Flynn stood up, tossing the book aside. “Excuse me for trying to save your fucking life.”

“Maybe I didn’t want my life saved!” Wyatt snapped back, and oh, oh that was a little more real than he’d meant it to be.

Flynn didn’t look away, just kept those intense eyes on him, Flynn was always so intense and Wyatt could never really handle it, he always had to look away, except this time he couldn’t.

“My mom got like that,” Flynn said at last. “After my dad died. I… I didn’t know how to handle it. His death, or her. So I did something… stupid, I lied about my age and I signed up for the war.”

He huffed out a sardonic chuckle. “That snapped her out of it, all right. But not the way I’d hoped. I always told myself if I got another chance, I’d do better. I’d help the person the right way.”

Wyatt felt something inside of him crack open, like someone was finally looking at him and _understood_. “I don’t have anyone,” he admitted. “Other than Jess. I don’t… I’ve got no one. No plan. Nothing I want. Nothing I care about.”

“We’ll find you something,” Flynn said.

“Yeah, sure.” Wyatt snorted.

“We will,” Flynn repeated, and he sounded so annoyingly decided about it, that Wyatt kind of believed him.

They didn’t really talk further about… all that, not until a week later when they were both on the tail end of an all-nighter. Flynn had, as Wyatt suspected, been doing Wyatt’s homework for him while Wyatt was down for the count, but Flynn had taken pains to hide it so Wyatt didn’t thank him. He suspected Flynn didn’t want to be thanked.

That night, though, he was a bit buzzed from the caffeine and lack of sleep, and there’d been a thought annoying him at the back of his brain for a while. “Y’know something that’s… it shouldn’t annoy me but it does?”

“Hmm?” Flynn replied. They were sitting on Flynn’s bed, Flynn opposite him, their legs stretched out so that Wyatt’s feet were kind of in Flynn’s lap and vice versa. Flynn put down his book and made a _go on_ gesture.

“Jess said a lot of shit, and I’m starting to think she was right.” Wyatt put his notebook and pencil aside. “Yeah, I thought about myself and not her, I never listened, I’ve got some shit to work out, but…” This was so fucking embarrassing. “She said I was bad in bed, and for some fucking reason that’s what I keep focusing on.”

Flynn stared at him. “That’s what…”

“Yeah, I know it’s stupid, you don’t have to tell me.”

Flynn cocked his head a little, and did that thing when he was thinking where he’d run his tongue over his bottom lip. It made Wyatt feel oddly hot and achy when Flynn did that. “I think I know why.”

“Oh, great, what, were you spying on us or something…”

“No, moron, I just know you.”

“Fine, then what’s the problem? If you’re such an expert on me.” Wyatt felt like he was stepping out onto thin ice and daring Flynn to do it with him, trying to get them both to plunge into icy water.

Flynn opened his mouth, paused, then said, “Kiss me.”

Wyatt could feel his eyes going wide. “What!?” It came out strangled, and there was no explanation for the way his stomach swooped.

Flynn rolled his eyes. “It’s better if I just show you, okay? C’mon, prove Jess wrong.”

“But…” _I’m not gay._

The thought of kissing Flynn, though, had him hot all over, just like when he’d thought about kissing Jess. He’d been horny and fidgety all day when he’d taken a shower with Flynn’s stuff and smelled like him, smelled _Flynn_ on him all day, and that… that wasn’t how you were about guys you didn’t…

“Nobody knows about this, okay?” Wyatt huffed, obligingly crawling across the bed. “Or you’re dead.”

“You think I want everyone knowing about this?” Flynn snapped back. “God made you all pretty and no brains, fucking hell.”

 _You think I’m pretty?_ Wyatt thought, but like fuck was he gonna say that out loud, so he just kissed Flynn before he could dig himself an even bigger hole.

Flynn almost immediately made a knowing, displeased noise, and slid his hand around the back of Wyatt’s head to fist in his hair. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he said, and Wyatt was about to demand what the hell that meant, except Flynn kissed him again. And this time, Flynn was in control.

Wyatt found himself pushed back until he was flat on his back on the bed, grabbing onto Flynn’s shoulders to keep himself steady as Flynn sealed his mouth over Wyatt’s. Jesus _Christ_ , he’d always kind of assumed that Flynn had never done anything since Flynn’s schedule consisted of class, homework, and annoying Wyatt, but at some point Flynn had obviously gotten some action because the man knew what the fuck he was doing.

The odd thing was, Wyatt… liked this. Not just kissing Flynn, although that was, um, a hell of a something, but the fact that Flynn was the one calling the shots. He coaxed Wyatt into whatever it was he wanted Wyatt to do, he chose when to pull away and to plunge back in, and he forcibly held Wyatt in place when he decided to kiss along Wyatt’s neck and jaw instead, forcing Wyatt to shake and whine because it felt so fucking _good_ and he couldn’t _do_ anything about it.

“See,” Flynn rumbled at last, when Wyatt was a wreck and felt like his brain was leaking out his ears. “You keep trying to be in control and just do whatever you want. And it doesn’t sit right, does it? You like it better when the other person’s the one in charge.”

Every inhale felt like fire in his lungs. Wyatt just nodded dumbly, words kind of out of the question.

“Feels like you’re in charge because that’s how it’s supposed to be, right?” Flynn went on. He shifted slightly and Wyatt could feel the weight of him and he nearly lost his entire mind. “Not because that’s actually how you want it to be. If you’d let Jess be in charge, more, I bet you both would’ve liked it better. You can’t do something properly if you’re not really enjoying it.”

Wyatt had to admit, showing him had been the better option. If Flynn had said all this before the making out, Wyatt would’ve gotten angry and refused to listen to him.

Flynn started to pull away, which dragged his body against Wyatt’s, and Wyatt whimpered helplessly. A voice that sounded very much like his dad’s was screaming at him that this was disgusting, wrong, _perverted_ , but at the same time it felt so good, _Flynn_ felt good, and Wyatt didn’t want Flynn to stop.

Besides, he was safe with Flynn. Flynn took care of him.

“You should show me other stuff,” Wyatt blurted out, before he lost his courage. “Y’know, I mean, only if you really want.”

Flynn’s eyes bore into him, hot and searching, and for the first time Wyatt wasn’t afraid to stare right back, match Flynn’s gaze.

After an agonizing moment, Flynn moved forward again, putting all of his weight down on Wyatt this time, settling between Wyatt’s legs, and oh _fuck,_ Wyatt could feel Flynn, hard and hot, up against where Wyatt himself was pretty damn compromised.

“If I really want,” Flynn echoed, sarcasm lacing his voice.

Wyatt nodded. He got daring, spreading his legs a little farther, arching up a bit.

Flynn’s eyes looked black.

Flynn kissed him again, and this time, they didn’t come up for air.

The rest of the dorm still got to know when Wyatt and Flynn were at it, just for an entirely different reason. Because Wyatt still lacked volume control.


End file.
